10 Kinds
by Shostakovich
Summary: Mercy Thibeau wasn't expecting a brother-in-law like Remy Lebeau. Remy wasn't expecting to get owned at cards by her 15-year old sister, but sometimes it takes more than skill to win. Gambit backstory.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: This is my first X-men Evolution story, so please be gentle with me.

A lot of the characters and situations are heavily based in comicverse. As far as this chapter goes, the only people mentioned that I own are Mercy's parents and siblings, most prominently Marie Thibeau.

This is a work in progress; apologies for the short first chapter. Any feedback will be greatly appreciated!

Thanks again, and please read, review, and enjoy! —Alex

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Like just about everyone else, Mercy Thibeau was struck dumb by Henri's brother.

She had been expecting a redhead, or at least someone with reddish hair. Her boyfriend's auburn hair was only a few shades too dark to label him a ginger, and the way he talked about his younger brother made him seem like a less mature version of Henri himself.

But Remy's hair was brown, and his eyes were further from Henri's brown than Mercy could have imagined. Even though it took a minute to coax off the sunglasses, assuring him she'd seen it all, she only realized after he slipped the glasses back on with a sly smile that she hadn't really ever seen anything.

He disappeared back upstairs, but not before giving Mercy a look over the glasses with his breathtaking eyes that made the breath fly out of her.

Henri wrapped a large hand around her elbow.

"Y'okay, _catin_?"

Mercy nodded. "Is he always that... that..." She shook her head. "Does he do that to all the girls?" Henri chuckled.

"Oui."

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Somehow, Henri found it perfectly reasonable that Mercy would be susceptible to his little brother's charms.

"I don' know a single _femme_ immune to his charms except Tante Mattie, and even she's got a soft spot for him."

"It doesn't bother you, though? I mean—"

"I couldn' be happier, _catin_." He wrapped his arms around her, and she hummed contentedly as his fingers played through her blond curls. She felt him smile against her neck.

"When can I meet _your_ little brother?"

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Mercy had never really been close with either of her younger siblings.

Michael was only a year younger than her, but the fact that both of them were born in the seventies did nothing to alleviate the tension between them. To be honest, there was a certain tension between Mike and their parents, too.

Their father, Paul Thibeau, worked at a high-end men's clothing store. Mercy had loved visiting his store when she was younger, running her hands down the seams of perfectly tailored pants and vests and shirts. Mike had never really gotten into it like she had— he was too busy playing with toy cars and, eventually, computers to care much about what he or anyone else wore.

At some point, Mercy couldn't pinpoint exactly when, Mike discovered dance, and at that point he stopped being home most nights until past midnight. She might have understood if he was clubbing, which she did every one or two weeks, but he was doing something called swing, and she had no interest in something called 'lindy hop'.

When he went off to technical school in New York, Mercy stayed in New Orleans.

She got a birthday card and an occasional e-mail, but other than that, Mike disappeared as easily as if he'd never belonged to the family.

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"You don't really wanna meet Michael."

Henri propped his head up on his arm. "_Pourquoi pas_?"

"He's... not your type. Anyway, he's in New York."

"Th' city?"

"No, Rochester. Near Buffalo."

"_D'ac_." He twirled a curl around one of his fingers. "_Et ta soeur_? What about Marie?"

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Marie.

Marie, Marie, Marie.

Mercy had tried harder to be nice to Marie than she'd ever tried with Mike, even though the only thing they'd ever had in common was their blond hair— and even that wasn't completely true anymore. Mercy was eight when Marie was born, and the entire family doted on her. Almost everyone was amazed at how healthy baby Marie was, especially considering how old their mother Caroline was when she was born. With the attention constantly on Marie, however, Mercy found it harder to be nice. But she tried.

Now, Marie was fifteen, and even though she still hadn't finished high school she was making more money than Mercy wanted to imagine racking up in her sister's bank account. Between her logic and her math, Marie was easily the smartest in the family.

Mercy's only real comfort was that no matter how much smarter her sister was, she would always be the prettiest.

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"So what about Marie?"

Mercy shook herself out of her thoughts. "I'm supposed to take her out to lunch on Saturday."

"_Alors_ bring her here. We can play cards or somet'ing." Henri laughed. "Remy'll win, though. You mind?"

"Me? Not at all. I'm terrible at cards." She smirked. "Marie might give Remy a run for his money, though. No one beats Marie."

"_Vraiment_?"

"Really, really."


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: An update in less than 36 hours is not exactly an everyday occurrence here at Shostakovich, Inc.

Again, please go easy on me. It's still my first X-Men: Evolution fic, so please don't judge too hard. :-P

Also, there has been a question as to whether Marie Thibeau, Mercy's sister, is Rogue. The answer is no, for a few reasons, the major one (for now) being that Rogue is from Mississippi, Mercy and her family are from Louisiana, and I am not writing an AU story. I apologize for the confusion— it seemed obvious to me that Marie Thibeau couldn't be Rogue, and I failed to recognize that not everyone knows as much about my story as me. Again, sorry about the confusion. Next chapter, I promise, will certainly confirm this for any nonbelievers! Thanks for your patience.

As always, read, review, and enjoy! — Alex

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Surprisingly, Mercy was almost excited to introduce her sister to her boyfriend. Marie's rationality and finesse with money would impress Henri— if nothing else. And maybe Remy would be less... fascinating if he was dumbstruck by Marie's poker ability.

Saturday morning, Mercy drove the thirty minutes over to her parent's house in Destrehan to pick Marie up.

Marie and Mercy's parents lived on one side of a two-family house, about a ten-minute drive from where Mercy had grown up. Once she and Mike had gone off to an apartment and school, respectively, Paul and Caroline relocated with an 11-year old Marie to a smaller, cheaper place.

Now, four years later, Mercy was used to and almost enjoyed the half-hour ride. She still sometimes went there on Sundays, once a month perhaps, and spent a few days a month visiting with her sister.

Today was the last time Mercy would see her sister before Marie's summer break, and her parents had asked Mercy to please not take too long since Marie should study for finals.

Mercy hadn't made any promises, since she knew Marie too well to assume anything about how long things could take. Marie could make a quick trip to Starbucks take three hours and dinner at a sit-down restaurant take twenty minutes.

So no promises.

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Mercy parked her car on the street and stepped out, straightening her jean skirt. She slammed shut the door and glanced up at her sister's window.

"I'm here, Merce."

Mercy flinched and darted her eyes down to the front stoop. Marie was sitting on the bottom step, her long legs crossed in front of her. Mercy grinned.

"Hi, Marie."

Marie stood and stretched her arms over her head. "Hey." She strode over to Mercy and gave her sister a quick hug. "What's the plan? Quick bite and coffee?" She smirked. "I'll be quick this time, I promise."

Laughing, Mercy shook her head. "Actually, we're going to go into the city."

Marie stepped back. "You know I hate the city."

"I know, I know." Mercy kept herself from rolling her eyes with some difficulty. Marie hated crowds, something Mercy never understood. The city was so full of life— but then again, Marie was hardly the liveliest of people. "Henri just wanted to meet you, that's all. I can call him if you like, and—"

"Whoa, wait a sec. Your boyfriend wants to meet me?" Mercy nodded, and Marie started to laugh as she headed towards the car. "Wow. Oh boy."

Mercy threw Marie a dirty look. "It's not funny."

"What're you talking about? It's hilarious. You've had this boyfriend for what, three months? And he wants to meet me? You went out with Andrew for more than a year, and he never wanted to meet us." Marie glanced at Mercy as they drove back towards the highway to New Orleans. "Hopefully this one's smarter than Andy."

Mercy tightened her hands around the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white. "Yeah, he is." She tried to relax when she felt her sister's eyes on her. "Henri's smart. And we're gonna play cards." She took a deep breath. "His brother's supposed to be good."

"Is that so." Marie cracked her knuckles.

"Ugh, I wish you wouldn't do that. It's disgusting."

Marie rolled her eyes. "At least I'm not selling my soul to the devil or anything."

"You're on the computer so much you might as well be."

"I happen to be making more money than you, so don't judge me for being a computer geek. At least I'm not an airhead."

Mercy bit back a response as Marie pulled her mp3 player from her purse. She stuck a pair of headphones in her ears, leaned back in her seat, and closed her eyes.

"Wake me when we get there."

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Twenty-two minutes later, Mercy pulled up to Henri's family's place. The driveway was long, and Mercy tried not to look smug when Marie saw the house.

House wasn't really the right word for the work of art that the LeBeau mansion was.

"Jee-sus Christ."

The place leaked opulence, and Marie was already loving it.

"You didn't tell me he was loaded."

"Well, sweetie, you never thought to ask."

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Remy LeBeau watched from a window in the living room upstairs as Mercy and her sister walked from their car to the house.

Mercy's golden hair shone in the sun, and so did her smile. She was pretty; hell, Henri had repeatedly called her gorgeous. Remy had no problem sympathizing with his brother for falling so hard for her. She was as sweet as his aunt Ameline, who never had a mean word for anyone, and just smart enough to complement Henri without catching on.

Remy frowned when he focused on Mercy's sister.

Mercy might have been too caught up with Henri to notice anything unusual about the LeBeau family, but her sister looked like someone who'd pick up on everything. She turned her head this way and that, taking it all in.

She even ran her eyes over all the windows in the house, startling Remy when she didn't hold his gaze.

Maybe they'd be lucky enough to stay under the radar after all.

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Marie did notice the figure standing in the window, but she was too busy checking that all the windowsills were parallel to the ground to care. Doubtlessly she'd meet them later.

Mercy had already rung the doorbell, and she was literally bouncing on the balls of her feet. Marie shook her head, half amused, half horrified. Mercy was either really into this guy, or she was getting some really good compensation.

From the way that her sister's face lit up when the door opened and the smile on the man who stood in the doorway, she had a feeling it was more than just sex.

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Mercy could tell that Marie thought she was being childish, but Henri was worth the ridiculing glances. She took his hand and led him towards Marie.

"Marie, this is Henri. Henri, this is Marie."

She watched Marie size Henri up as Henri did the same to her.

"_Enchantée, p'ti_' Marie." He shook her hand carefully. "Min' if I call you T. Marie? 'S got a nice ring." Marie shrugged, the sides of her mouth curling up.

"Sure. Mind if I call you Big Henri?"

Henri burst out into a belly laugh that made Mercy smile.

Finally she could appreciate Marie's dry humor, and it made Henri laugh in a way that made her glad she'd met him. He didn't laugh like that very often, but every time he did, Mercy felt blessed to have found him.

He caught her around the waist and beckoned Marie to follow them.

"Let's play cards."


	3. Chapter 3

Author's note: Oh man some real news here: I am trying out a new form of section breaks! Please let me know what you think. I want the easiest readability for you, the reader. So please let me know, otherwise I will not know what to do! :-D Thanks.

Again, I only own Mercy's family at this point (specifically Marie Thibeau, who contrary to popular belief is not Rogue in any way shape or form) and the plot.

Please read, review, and enjoy! THanks very much, have a nice day!

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Marie ran her eyes across two adjacent sides of the foyer in Henri LeBeau's house and calculated the number of marble tiles in the room before her sister started babbling in her usual cheerful manner.

She easily tuned Mercy out. Mercy rarely said anything spectacular enough to warrant paying more attention to her than the exquisite mansion, which continued to astonish her. She was so used to her quiet and quaint suburban home that she never even imagined living in a place so... beautiful, so... opulent.

If she had imagined such a place, it wouldn't have been with her trailing after Mercy and her redheaded boyfriend.

For the first time, Marie was jealous of her sister.

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Remy LeBeau usually jumped at the chance to meet a member of the fairer sex.

But not today.

Today, Remy was worrying his bottom lip between his teeth and shuffling a deck of cards with one hand while he waited in the basement for his brother to bring down the girls.

He'd run down one of the old servant's staircases, which were now referred to as secret steps by Remy, Henri, and their cousins. He liked going down the tightly wound stairs— it was fantastic practice not touching the floor, and if he focused enough, he could see the glow of his eyes on the wall.

And no one who wasn't perfectly okay with him could ever ridicule him for it there.

Now, he fidgeted on the couch, uncomfortable even before he'd really seen Marie Thibeau. Henri hadn't really told him anything except that she was good at cards, according to Mercy.

_Mercy don' know how good Gambit is _aux cartes_._

Remy was confident that he could beat her, no matter what game they played. He played religiously, online and in real life, and there was no way that teenaged, skinny Marie Thibeau could be at his level. With a smirk, his confidence was restored.

As the door from upstairs opened and Mercy's voice wafted down from the kitchen, Remy started dealing a game for four.

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Henri was thoroughly impressed with Marie's indifference towards her sister. Even though it was probably more contrived than it seemed, he was impressed.

It took a mean sort to completely ignore your own sister.

Of course, Marie was quite busy looking around the place. Henri couldn't quite blame her for that, although he was slightly worried that she'd start asking questions. Her face was more intense than Mercy's had ever been, and while that was a good quality for, say, someone in his line of work, he didn't like it on fifteen-year old girls of any caliber.

Especially not his girlfriend's sister.

He led Mercy and Marie through the kitchen to the basement stairs, glad that Tante Mattie wasn't there to rope them into an hour-long conversation.

Henri really wanted to see Marie and Remy duke it out over the cards.

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Mercy's face broke into a sunny grin when she saw Remy dealing out cards.

"Hi, Remy!"

He looked up smiling, and Mercy felt Marie jerk to a stop behind her. Remy's smile faded as his eyes strayed behind her to Marie. Mercy desperately didn't want to turn around, but once she reached the bottom of the stairs she couldn't help it— Henri already was looking at her curiously.

"T. Marie, somet'in wrong?"

Mercy was horrified by the look of utter shock on her sister's face. She thought Marie would understand and not say anything, so she hadn't either. But Marie was staring at Remy like he had two heads.

_Oh God, this is all my fault. Remy's going to hate me and Henri's never going to want to see me again— Oh, God, please let her stop—_

Mercy squeezed her eyes shut and when she opened them again, Marie was staring at her with something like resentment.

"Why didn't you tell me, Merce?"

Henri's arm closed around her shoulders. "Mercy did what she t'ought was best."

"I've never met another one before! You think she'd'a warned me or something!"

Mercy buried her face in Henri's shoulder, mortified. This was not how she imagined Marie and Henri spending time. Henri froze.

"_Un autre_? Y' mean, y' are—"

"Jesus H. Christ, you didn't even tell him." Marie shook her head slowly. "I can't believe you, Mercy. I just cannot believe you."

"_Hein, petite, je pense que tu fermerais ta bouche, non_?"

Remy had stood up. He brushed past his brother and Mercy to stand at the bottom of the stairs. His eyes glowed as he looked up at Marie.

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Marie felt something akin to rage pumping through her.

Not only had Mercy withheld important information about Remy LeBeau, she had failed to tell Henri one of the most important things about her. Something more natural than her growing-in blonde roots.

Something that hid itself too well.

Not for the first time, Marie wished the numbers came with something more telling than simple genius.

Now that she was seeing someone with unbelievably glowing eyes— glowing eyes!— look up at her with his hand outstretched, she found she couldn't stay angry. All she could do was take Remy LeBeau's hand and follow him to the couch.

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*

Remy sat on the couch and his charm pulled Marie down with him. He looked towards Henri and Mercy, who were exchanging whispers.

He already regretted using his charm on Marie. She had already snapped out of it, but now she was back to looking at him. He waited as long as he could before turning to her.

He was surprised at the look on the face. Rarely did girls look at him without any sort of attraction, but here was a fifteen-year old girl, much less pretty than her sister, who was assessing him in much the same way his father would. He had been prepared to rebuff any advances, but now he was unsure how to get her to relax.

"I'm Remy."

"I figured."

Another heavy pause.

"_Alors_ you're Marie?"

"Your brother's calling me T. Marie. You can too, I don't mind." Marie pushed her hair behind her shoulders. "It's some Cajun thing, I'm assuming."

"_Oui_. D' T's short _pour petit_."

"Right."

He shared a look with Henri as the other two sat down on the couch across the glass coffee table.

_Mebbe she'll be harder t' beat den I t'ought._


	4. Chapter 4

Author's note: I again remind you that I only own the plot, Marie Thibeau, and other original characters. Also, this is EvoVerse, not MovieVerse, and thus there ought to be no correlation between Marie Thibeau and Rogue, as they are clearly different people.

Please read, review, and enjoy!

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Remy was in awe.

He didn't know what Marie Thibeau's powers were, but he figured they had to do with being lucky. She'd beaten him in all kinds of poker, even the obscure versions he had to explain to her. Henri and Mercy had long since stopped playing and had retreated upstairs after Marie told them to get a room.

After the latest game of Billabong, Remy shuffled the cards and put the deck on the table.

He'd moved over to the other couch for a better setup, so now he watched Marie over the coffee table. She looked up from her casual inspection of her fingernails and frowned.

"What?"

Remy shook his head. "How come y' so mean, _p'tit_?"

"Mean? What do you mean, mean?"

"Y' got this look on y' face. Why de frown?"

She rolled her eyes. "Just because I'm frowning doesn't mean I'm mean."

"_Non_, _c'est pas juste ça_. Mercy— you two don' _s'addonner_. Get along, I mean."

"It's impossible for me to truly respect her. Everything she does completely clashes with me. If we weren't related nothing could inspire me to have a relationship with her."

"Dat's a bit cold, _non_?" Marie shrugged.

"It's the truth."

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As soon as Mercy and Henri got up the stairs and into the kitchen, they were stopped by Tante Mattie.

Mercy had met the woman twice before, although the first time she'd barely gotten a chance to say hello. Second time around, earlier this week, she'd eaten with Henri, Tante Mattie, and Remy. They all seemed to approve of her love of spices, and she in turn fell in love with Tante's cooking.

Now, Tante Mattie was sitting at the small kitchen table, marking her place in a book.

"'Allo, Mercy."

"Hi, Tante Mattie."

Henri wrapped his arms around Mercy's waist. "Remy's gettin' beat _aux cartes_."

"Oh?"

"Marie's really good with numbers," Mercy said proudly. Tante Mattie raised her eyebrows. "Oh, Marie's my sister."

"She's fifteen, Tante."

Tante Mattie laughed. "Oh, _mon dieu. Remy doit être très choqué_."

"Ouais."

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Marie was being extra careful.

If Remy knew how happy she was, she would never live it down. Marie Thibeau didn't believe in emotions, and God forbid if someone thought she had them. Remy seemed so much more perceptive than the average person— although it was fair to say that he wasn't average in any way, shape or form.

Not only did he have the fascinating red-on-black eyes, but he was beautiful. Not even her normal adherence to the golden ratio undermined his good looks.

And the cherry on top: Remy LeBeau was fantastic at cards.

Card with Remy was for Marie more than just a game. She felt herself responding to each move as if they were in a dance; it was almost evenly matched. Remy had skill, so much more than she could have guessed. He must have played an unhealthy amount to be so good— unless his mutation had to do with it.

"Do you have any other quirks?"

Remy looked surprised. "Oui."

"Show me."

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Remy was almost too put off by Marie's superiority to appreciate it. He hated taking orders from people, and Marie's tone mirrored Jean-Luc's almost perfectly. He was so unnerved that it took more than a few seconds to realize how extremely mature Marie was.

He usually liked his girls to be mature. But not only was Marie in no way his, she took maturity to a level that spooked him. It was as if she was a robot— an extremely intelligent, calculating and cunning robot, but a robot nonetheless.

He was half tempted to not show Marie his more dangerous gift, but politess dictated he do so. He'd already realized she had yet to meet another mutant, and he'd be a terrible first example if he didn't show her what he could do.

So with a hint of trepidation, Remy felt in his pockets for something he didn't need. He found it in a crumpled receipt from a grocery store. He held the paper in his fingers and closed his eyes for a moment to find the source of energy he needed.

When his eyes opened, he saw Marie's eyes widen, doubtlessly at the brightness of the red in his eyes. Her eyes moved down to his hand, and she outright gasped when she saw the magenta glow around the paper.

He squeezed the receipt into a tighter wad and tossed it into the air, where it exploded with a small bang.

Marie flinched at the noise, but she was still looking at him. Her expression was unreadable, and Remy couldn't think of anything to do but stare back.

Usually, it was hard to look a girl in the face without turning on his charm, but he would have had to work to turn it on now. Marie might have been decent-looking, but he found nothing about her attractive. Her coldness radiated around her that he felt more naked than he ever had around a woman.

Marie, Remy suddenly realized, turned him off.

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The sudden quirking of Remy's lips at this revelation did not escape Marie's notice. She had a feeling that Remy, clearly a playboy, had just realized that she was unattractive to him. It had been clear to her from the start that Remy would not be attracted to her— it was a similar situation to the one she shared with her sister.

They were too different. Despite their common mutant heritage and love of cards, their personalities clashed. Remy was warmer, friendlier. He was much more genuine than Marie ever cared to be. Only Mike could still make her smile truly real, and she saw him so infrequently that when she did manage to get to Rochester, her cheeks ached.

They were both intense, true. But Remy's passion far outweighed Marie's, and she knew that there was something in her makeup that kept her from being uninhibited. And that stifled spontaneous Remy. For Marie, control was everything.

_Logic is what I breathe._

If Remy breathed anything, it was raw passion. Marie was frightened and fascinated by him, but she'd be the last one to say anything.

It was always safer to be interested from a distance.


	5. Chapter 5

Author's note: I again remind you that I only own the plot, Marie Thibeau, and other original characters. Also, this is EvoVerse, not MovieVerse, and thus there ought to be no correlation between Marie Thibeau and Rogue, as they are different people.

Apologies for the unusually short chapter! As a treat, I have a drawing I did of Marie, Remy, and Mercy playing cards. (Marie is, unusually, smiling.) Just remove the spaces.

alexandraasaint . deviantart . com / art / 10-Kinds-Marie-Remy-Mercy-122196281

Please read, review, and enjoy!

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Remy had shown Marie his favorite online poker and blackjack sites, and two weeks later she was still usually beating him.

Although she hadn't seen him, they'd chat online while they played. Marie always asked about 'Big Henri', which made Remy actually laugh. It had been a long time since he'd genuinely laughed at a _fille_'s attempt at humor, but Marie managed to push the right buttons. Even Henri had laughed.

Now, Marie was telling him about her last day of tenth grade while they played yet another game.

Remy didn't tell her he'd never gone to school. Only hand-picked tutors for the precious, super-powered, adopted son of the King of Thieves. And he'd never really talked to any of his cousins about school.

Reading Marie's dry comments about high school made him wonder how much he missed out on.

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Marie wasn't quite sure the complete extent of her powers.

She'd tried to explain it to Remy two weeks ago, and felt inadequate when she couldn't just show him. His mutation, so easily visible, was so clear-cut compared to hers. She almost would have preferred something disfiguring to what she had, if only she could know her actual limits.

What she did know, what she told Remy, was that numbers worked for her.

She'd been average at math before, but one day everything snapped into place so concretely that she actually felt the gears in her head shifting in a permanent way. She'd heard about mutants, but had never given them much thought until then. She knew she had to be one, and accepted it with the same ease she accepted the numbers.

What she didn't know was how much the numbers worked for her and how much she worked the numbers.

It could be that she was just unbelievably lucky. It took more than understanding numbers to win at poker, and at most card games. Reading people was part of it, and although Marie knew she was uncannily talented at that, Remy was just as good. The only solution that Marie could offer was that her mutation gave her more than a way with numbers.

Whether it was luck or a slight tweaking of reality that let her win, Marie Thibeau was undoubtedly hard to beat.

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Sometimes, it was nice to be able to make your own schedule.

Mercy loved lounging in on Friday mornings. It was a treat she gave herself every few months, having a three-day weekend. She'd work late Thursday nights, sleep in Friday morning, beautify herself, and go out at night.

She'd met Henri on such a Friday.

With a smile, Mercy rolled over on her bed and turned her phone on. She didn't have any missed calls or messages— a clean start to hopefully a fantastic day.

Mercy was going out tonight, and she was going to be beautiful.

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"Remy, what d'you tink?"

Remy didn't glance up from his computer. ""S fine, Henri."

"Remy, _s'il te plaît_."

After a drawn-out sigh, Remy looked up. Henri had been nervous all day, and it didn't take a genius to figure out why.

The _cooyon_ was going to propose to his girlfriend, and Remy couldn't do a thing about it.

He wouldn't, even if he could. Henri was obviously in love with Mercy Thibeau, and Remy could tell Mercy felt the same way. But Mercy was a little too dim for Remy's taste. Her sister was right— Mercy was a bit of an airhead.

Henri couldn't care less— even Jean-Luc had to consent to Mercy marrying Henri. There was nothing to do about it, and looking Henri over as he straightened his tie, Remy could scarcely think of anything to say to his obviously smitten brother.

"Looks good."


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: So again, I only own the plot and the original characters. Everything that doesn't belong to me belongs to someone else.

Apologies, again, for the extremely short chapter, but it's been so long since I updated I wanted to just submit SOMEthing. I'm at school, so please don't hate me too much for never updating. .

Read, review, enjoy! I love reviews— they make that sad empty spot between my lungs and stomach feel whole again! :D

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Saturday morning was usually quiet at the Thibeau house.

Marie enjoyed it. Specifically, she enjoyed being the only child living at home. She used to have to fight them for what cartoons to watch Saturday morning, although by now she was over that phase.

Now, Saturday mornings were for less childish pursuits. Sometimes she would sit and watch the ridiculous shows in the morning, but not usually.

Today she had been planning on working out another way to solve Rubik's cubes, but a call early in the morning from Mercy disrupted her.

Marie let her mother pick the phone up.

A minute later, when her mother told her that Mercy was engaged, Marie fell back on her bed.

"Fantastic."

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Mercy was far bubblier than usual, and it was giving Marie a headache.

Henri LeBeau had, as Marie guessed he would, charmed her parents on sight. He may have looked slightly intimidating if he wasn't dressed in carefully chosen clothes; Marie knew a lesser person would have been bothered by him the way he was dressed when she met him.

Somehow Mercy had managed to see through or completely miss Henri's scary side. Marie wasn't sure whether to be happy about that or not.

After a half an hour of sitting in the living room with her parents, sister, and Henri, she decided she didn't really care. Henri liked her sister enough to marry her; it was stupid to worry about him.

It was herself she knew she should worry about, but she never really cared enough for that either. Maybe she didn't get people, but none of them seemed to be worth the trouble.

Well, almost none.

If she didn't have to stay on his good side, Marie might have tried to figure Remy out. Figure out what pushed his buttons aside from cards and girls that weren't her.

But Remy LeBeau was going to be part of her family, and if she tried to figure him out like she'd tried to figure out a few of the kids at school she knew Mercy would never talk to her again. Had Mercy been anyone but her sister, Marie certainly wouldn't have minded, but she didn't particularly want to be on Remy's bad side, either.

He was just a little too powerful for that, and a little too passionate.

_Power and passion._

Marie was frightened for whoever Remy ended up falling in love with, because she knew that girl would never get away unscathed.

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At the moment, the girl Remy fancied himself in love with was Bella Donna Boudreaux.

He was actually engaged to her, although he'd never asked and she'd never said yes. It was a marriage of convenience and business— politics, really. The Guilds decided for them.

"It's better this way, _mon fils_," Remy's father had told him. "Y' marry Bella Donna, de Guilds'll have peace. It's better f' everyone."

_Better f' everyone _mon cul_._

Regardless of what Remy's father said, Remy was having second thoughts.

The wedding was in a little less than two months, and he knew Bella was looking forward to it. He didn't blame her— even girls who happen to be trained assassins look forward to their wedding. She loved him, even if it was superficial. He was a gorgeous guy, he couldn't hold it against her for wanting him. Most girls did.

Remy snorted.

_Guess it's a good t'ing T. Marie's diff'rent._

It wouldn't do any good to have a sister-in-law lusting after him, that's for sure.

He smiled wryly, knowing distinctly that if she'd been as good-looking as he was, she'd be thinking exactly the same thing about him.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: I only own the plot and the original characters. (Everything that doesn't belong to me belongs to someone else.) This chapter, I'm starting to bring up the Thieves' Guild; terms you may not know will be at the bottom, after the chapter.

Please read and review— know that I appreciate all of your comments and that any constructive criticism will be taken very gratefully. 3

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When Henri got back home from visiting Mercy's family on Saturday afternoon, he found his cousins Theoren and Etienne Marceaux saying goodbye to his father.

Jean-Luc was clearly pleased, but Henri's furrowed eyebrows were enough to wipe his father's face of any emotion. A curt nod for his son, and Jean-Luc LeBeau, patriarch of the New Orleans Thieves' Guild, disappeared back upstairs.

Sometimes, Henri mused, he didn't really want to know.

Then again, when it involved his 15-year old cousin doing his tilling with Remy as supervisor, he definitely did want to know.

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"You're d' one who beat Remy at cards, non?"

It was Sunday, and both the Thibeau and Marceaux families were over for a family dinner. Tante Mattie had put Marie next to Etienne, which made Remy want to bang his head against a wall. Etienne was just so goddamn _cheerful_. He made Marie seem like a zombie.

"He beats me sometimes."

Marie peered at the shrimp speared on her fork before taking a bite. Etienne was smiling at her even as she ignored him. Eventually she looked up at him, put her fork down, and sat back in her chair.

"Yes?"

"You must be pretty good, den, hein?"

She shrugged, and across the table Remy rolled his eyes. Immediately Marie and Etienne snapped their heads to look at him, identical glares on their faces.

Remy couldn't help it.

He laughed.

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Later, Etienne and Marie relaxed on the couches in the basement.

Well, Etienne relaxed. Marie just sat tensely in a relaxed position.

She liked Etienne. Or at least, she liked that while he was annoyingly cheerful, he was also extremely observant.

Remy was like that, too, and Henri as well. Actually, the entire family, except maybe Mrs. LeBeau, had noticed that she saw everything. Remy, she expected it from. She had a feeling most mutants saw what was going on around them. She'd always thought that.

But from the others? No. It wasn't normal. Wasn't right.

And Etienne— he was her age, and cheerful. Why did he notice things like she did?

So she asked him, and while he was checking his phone for messages, he told her.

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It sounded pretty ridiculous.

Thieves' Guild? Tilling? It made Marie's head spin.

But it made sense, in a sick sort of way. It explained just about everything, from the way Remy casually spun coins between his fingers to the way he stepped more quietly than a feline.

Etienne was spinning a coin between his fingers, too. A silver dollar that glinted every 180 degrees and made Marie almost blink every time.

She realized Etienne had started talking again.

"We have enemies, y' know."

_This sounds like a pirate movie._

"De Assassins' Guild. But we got a truce goin'. An intermarriage."

"Who's getting married?"

_It has to be Remy._

"Remy. He's gettin' married to Bella Donna Boudreaux, d' assassin princess. Some of us call her _champignon_. Mushroom."

"Not to her face, I imagine."

"_Mais non_." Etienne smiled. "She's _belle, mais..._"

"She's a killer?"

"_Oui._ It's hard to like an assassin."

"And Remy doesn't love her." At Etienne's questioning look, she added, "He couldn't. He never mentioned her to me, and we've been talking a lot."

"Dat's not how love works, Marie." Etienne tossed her the coin; she caught it easily.

"Isn't it?"

"No 'fense, _mais_ you're just Mercy's sister. Why would 'e tell you?"

Marie bristled.

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On the ride back to Destrehan, Marie watched out the window towards the setting sun. They'd been at the LeBeau's for a long time, and her parents were talking quietly about them in the front.

Marie mostly ignored them, only listening in if they mentioned Remy or Etienne, which didn't happen much on the half-hour drive back home. Her mother had mentioned Remy was handsome, her father that Etienne seemed like a smart kid.

_They don't notice anything._

She'd become increasingly aware of how blind her parents were now that she was interacting on a semi-regular basis with Remy. And now, with having met another person her age with the same perceptiveness, it was even more apparent.

She'd exchanged e-mails with Etienne, and she had a feeling they'd be talking quite a bit. She had noticed the serious lack of girls in Remy's family, and even though she was a far cry from a normal teenage girl, something was better than nothing.

Besides, Etienne was hardly normal for a boy his age. He was about to be inaugurated into a Thieves' Guild, for goodness sake. That wasn't normal.

Marie smiled a quirky little smile as she realized she was suddenly jealous of Mercy. Mercy, who would have unlimited access to all these abnormal people and probably wouldn't even realize how lucky she was until it was too late.

She suddenly remembered a quick, soft smile Etienne had sent her way at dinner and her smile widened.

_Maybe it's not too late for me._

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A/N: A tilling is a test/ceremony that marks a young thief's induction and consecration into the Thieves' Guild. If you have any other questions, you can either look it up or ask. :3 Thanks again, and please review!


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: I only own the plot and the original characters. (Everything that doesn't belong to me belongs to someone else.) This chapter, I'm starting to bring up the Thieves' Guild; terms you may not know will be at the bottom, after the chapter.

Please read and review— know that I appreciate all of your comments and that any constructive criticism will be taken very gratefully. :3

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Mercy was curled up on her bed, watching the news. Henri was in the bathroom, brushing his teeth. Both of them were pleased about how their families got along.

"Etienne and Marie seem to get along well," she said once Henri stood in the doorway.

"He's a bit cheerful f' her_, mais_ I tink dat's a good t'ing."

"I think you're right. Maybe he'll rub off on her."

They looked at each other. Henri's mouth twitched, and then they both laughed until Mercy's eyes were wet and she realized she was crying.

Henri was holding her tightly, and she clutched at him for life.

"I don't know if she's ever really laughed, Henri," she whispered. He shushed her and stroked her hair.

"Shh, _catin_. Shh."

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Marie and Etienne were video-chatting over the internet, and she was trying not to smile.

"C'mon, T. Marie, I know y' can." His blue eyes sparkled brighter than even Remy's as he grinned. She had a feeling it was just the strange glow of her computer. "Just _un petit sourire._"

She cracked, and the corners of her mouth curled up.

"Happy, then?"

"Non! Show some teeth!"

She let out a breath that almost turned into a laugh and smiled, really smiled. She didn't look straight at the camera, nor at him, instead looking at the keyboard, at the wall, anywhere but at him until her smile was gone— not that it lasted long. She looked at him, a little confused at his thoughtful expression.

"Y' really are different."

Marie nodded, and he sighed.

"M' gotta go. We'll talk later, _hein_?"

She nodded again and quickly closed her laptop. She stood up and sat stiffly on her bed, staring at her knees. The last time she had smiled like that was almost a year ago, when her brother Mike had come home to visit over his summer break.

She was used to small, secret smiles that confused Mercy. She was used to tiny smirks that kept the people at school guessing. She was used to winking grins that satisfied her parents.

She wasn't used to Etienne, and she wondered if she ever would be.

_I hope so._

Marie hugged herself.

_God, I hope so._

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Henri waited until Mercy was asleep before writing an encrypted e-mail to his cousin Etienne, one that he knew only Etienne would be able to open.

He kept it brief, and tried to keep it somewhat lighthearted, but being brief about Marie was difficult even when being serious. She was intriguing; even Henri's father had mentioned it after she and her parents had left.

"A very watchful eye," was what Jean-Luc had said, and that was exactly what she had.

Of course, Henri knew she had much more than that— namely, a gift with numbers and cards, and a remarkable way of reading people. He had a feeling that she would make a more useful addition to the Guild than Mercy ever could.

Not, of course, that he cared about that as much. It was Mercy he loved.

But knowing Etienne and Marie were the same age made it a bit harder to keep Marie in the dark. He wouldn't have been surprised if Etienne had already told her about the Guild— it wasn't like Marie was going to tell anyone. Henri doubted Marie had anyone to tell.

And Etienne so rarely met people his own age at his level that it would have been easy to pry it out of him— not that Henri minded Marie knowing.

He rather thought he'd like having her in the family.

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At the LeBeau mansion, Jean-Luc was having exactly the same thoughts.

He'd pieced together from what Henri and Remy had told him about the girl that she had some sort of mutation, and one that worked numbers.

Forget blueprints, Marie Thibeau might very well be a walking measuring tape. And who was to say she couldn't win some serious money at cards?

If she could beat Remy, she had to be good, and that was more than good enough for Jean-Luc LeBeau.

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Henri slipped into bed, sliding his arms around Mercy as she automatically shifted closer to him.

He fell asleep to the smell of her hair, the sound of her breathing, and the feel of her skin.


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